Seasons Turn, Turned Stones Turn Crayfish

It was only in that second I had realized, that it was about another minute before I truly grasped how quickly, time had so precisely ticked so quickly, to bring these colder months ahead to me so swiftly. Crayfish, you mini lake lobstering treat. Desiring you, lifting stones with my nose, finding and tossing you up, exo-bones and devouring your delicious offerings slyly winking at that Summer eve moon's last beat. 28 crayfish thereafter, asleep a peachy fox on the beach.